Reasons
by ObsidianSilversmith
Summary: From the first time they met, all CT wanted from Gamma was a reason.   Drabble Collection
1. Not To Die

~~ZOMBIE POWDER~~

Rating: T ((for language))

Title: Not to Die

Author(s): ObsidianSilversmith

Date Written: 12 January 2011

Date Published: 21 March 2011

Theme/Summary: "Give me one reason not to blow your fucking brains out." ~ How Gamma met CT

Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gamma and CT

Word Count: 265

Dedication To the fact that I'm so bored, I'd rather be at school right now.

AN:/: I've fallen in love with Gamma, but alas, he will never be mine. LULZ.

"Give me one reason not to blow your fucking brains out." Icy metal scorches my skull as I curse my own stupidity.

The shadow stretching to the wall in front of me engulfs everything and shields all from the glaring gaze of the spotlights. The gun against me twitches upwards in what can only mean he wants me to stand. I curse my own stupidity. Then again, I've never been too bright.

I drop my sword before uncurling from my crouch. I try to remember when the door opened and he entered. I can not.

The demon-like presence behind me flares as I try to turn. It stops me. I want to see the monster holding me trapped after trying to steal the weakest of the Ring of The Dead. It is his own fault for making it known that he has what I need.

I turn despite the murderous intent. The lights blind me momentarily, but fading reveals the truth of my captor. He's my age. Small shoulders tried to expand to hold the burden of the world that has been forced upon him. My own glare softens as understanding.

The gun slams into my skull, thankfully I am stronger than most.

"Give me one fucking reason _not_ to blow your brains against the wall."

I shrug my shoulders and my gaze re-hardens. Eh, ain't much I could do. There is no use chancing a bullet scrambling my brains. I wouldn't do myself any good dead.

"Ain't one."

The blond removes the gun and smiles. "I think I like you."


	2. To Fight

~~ZOMBIE POWDER~~

Rating: T

Title: Why?

Author(s): ObsidianSilversmith

Date Written: 19 March 2011

Date Published: 21 March 2011

Theme/Summary: The first time they fight, Gamma asks CT for the reason he fights.

Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gamma and CT

Genre(s): friendship, and angst

Word Count: 346

Dedication: Calder...

AN:/: Do not own anything...except maybe my clothes, but then again my parents bought those.

No matter how many times I try, the boy—actually two years younger than I—knocked me sprawling. Every time his bullet connects with me, every time I nearly fail to dodge the perfectly aimed shot, every time I trip over my own imbalanced feet I sprawl on the ground.

My newly white hair gathers the dust of world until it is nearly chocolate in color. His blond hair is still perfectly kept and clean. The harsh sun refuses to force a sweat upon his brow. His eyes—the color of the iciest seas—shine flat. There is no light to dance inside them. They move, they mock, they speak...but no emotions course through them to tell that he can feel the world around him. Like a sapphire upon the ring my mother once wore, they reflect auras of things around them. They mirror what they see...They show nothing of themselves.

"Why?"

He looks to me with the smile plastered so falsely upon his lips. "What do you mean why?" A finger taps his chin. "Why do you get swatted away so easily?" The grin cracks wider. It is false. He must know that I know. _He knows that I know._ I just do not know why.

"Why do you fight when all you wish to do is cry?"

Anger flashes quickly—a bolt of vivid lighting meant to burn away the earth and leave only ashes—and his fist connects with my nose. He never strikes out. Violence is distance. He keeps away with eyes narrowed down the barrel of a pistol. He reaches out with metal, never his fist.

To hit me with hands means that I have delved beyond the realm of his border of safety: I have seen _him_.

His eyes clear—as quickly as it happened—and his gun is retrieved from the dust where it fell from his hand. His smile is in place, more tense than before, but not any less fake.

I stand from the twenty feet that his touch sent me. All I can whisper is a "yeah, me too."


End file.
